A/N: Hey guys, enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think. I would appreciate any and all opinions. Thanks.

2008 – November

South Dakota – Sioux Falls

"Come on, come on. Pick up. Pick up dammit." Charlotte paced in the salvage yard next to her car, her phone pressed to her ear. The call went to answer phone and she groaned and hung up before she dialled again and turned, planting one hand on the edge of her car as her eyes studied the engine block. "Come on Matt. I'm sorry, just pick up, please."

She glared at the engine, not finding it strange that her car had broken down again. Her handiwork was excellent and there was no reason for her car to break down unless somebody wanted it to, and she had a good idea of who that somebody was.

"This is Matthew, leave a message after the beep."

She growled and scrubbed her hand over her face before she decided to leave a message for him. "I'm sorry Matt, for what I said. I'm an ass and I don't deserve you to answer me, but unless you want the end of the world to happen, please, answer me. I need you. Please."

Charlotte hung up with a sigh and put her phone back into her pocket. She turned her attention to her car and threaded her hand through her hair before she reached into the engine. A couple of spark plugs had blown out, which explained what happened, but they had been new when she'd replaced them last month. There was no chance that they should've gone by now and she tried to ignore the way her body itched with the feeling of being watched.

She pulled out the old spark plugs and gave in to the need to do something. She grabbed her phone and dialled Crowley's number. It took a little longer for him to answer than she liked but she listened to him ask, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need some kind of masking spell or something from the angels. You know anything?"

There was a pause before he answered, "Not yet."

She didn't pry into what that meant and just sighed. "Well thanks for nothing." And she hung up. She put her phone back into her pocket and worked on putting in new spark plugs. Forty minutes and a lot of swearing later Charlotte sighed and closed the hood of her car. She grabbed the old plugs and moved into Bobby's house to dump them in the bin. "I'm done," she called out and she turned her head to see Bobby in the living room, sat behind his desk with a pen in his hand.

"What are you hunting again?"

Charlotte shrugged. "At a glance a werewolf," it wasn't a complete lie. The mutilated bodies could be the work of werewolves to anybody else. "So I was gonna go check it out in Georgia."

Bobby stared at her with a frown and Charlotte could feel the silent questioning coming from the older man. "You sure it's a werewolf?"

"No," she said honestly and started rifling through her pockets for her car keys. "But somebody needs to look into it."

"Looks like something a lot more than a werewolf."

She shrugged again and hooked her finger into the keyring on her keys. "If I think it's anything more I'll call you."

Bobby stared at her a little more before he threw the pen onto the desk and stood up. "Charlotte, you wanna tell me what's going on? Ever since Dean went to hell you've been hunting up and down the country on lame ass leads that no other hunter would even turn their nose up at. Lying to me about what you're doing ain't gonna do you a lick of good. I love you like a damned daughter but I'll be dammed if I let you pull this kind of crap some more. So you wanna try again. What are you hunting?"

Charlotte couldn't look Bobby in the eyes, couldn't bring herself to even raise her eyes off the floor. She loved Bobby and hated herself for the way she'd been treating him, but she just didn't know how to put it into words, how to explain one thing without having to explain about everything else. That was a can of worms she didn't want to open. Not yet.

"Demons," she said simply and dared to glance up at Bobby. Even that word, a partial truth, felt sour on her tongue but she couldn't bring herself to say anything more.

Bobby narrowed his eyes slightly before he repeated, "Demons?"

She nodded slowly, "Demons."

And it was another moment before Bobby said, "There's nothing pointing to demons except mutilated corpses."

"Yeah, but I know somebody in town who thinks it's a little more." She hated herself a little bit more for that. It wasn't a complete lie but it wasn't anywhere near the truth.

"What's their name?"

She hesitated a moment before she blurted out the first name that came to mind, "Max Ward."

"Never heard of him."

Charlotte nodded, "He's relatively new, still making friends. Look, I should get going."

Bobby stared at her for a little longer before he nodded slowly, his brows still furrowed. "Alright, just call you hear me?"

"Yeah. I'll call." She gave it another moment before she cleared her throat and nodded to the back door, "See you." She tried to ignore the heaviness in chest as she made a line for her car and climbed inside. Five minutes later and she pulled out of the salvage yard with a sigh. She scrubbed a hand over her face with a groan and mentally kicked herself.

Her phone buzzed and she opened the message that said, "You've got twenty four hours."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled and she dropped her phone onto the top of the dashboard. She was just about to pass the border of Sioux Falls when there was a rustle of fabric. Somebody appeared in the passenger seat and she jumped, her hands twisting at the wheel of her car in surprise and sending her car turning before she righted it, pulled over and stopped. She stared at the guy in the seat and quickly mumbled, "You." A small ache started in the back of her skull but she kept her eyes glued to him, despite the bright light around him. It was brighter than when she'd seen Castiel and god was it getting to her a lot more.

He chuckled and held up a folded piece of paper. He turned amber eyes in her direction and said, "Go here. And make it quick."

Charlotte grabbed his arm and kept him in place. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are." After a moment she winced and narrowed her eyes slightly. "You're different to the rest of them."

"I heard about your little problem," he said with a small smile and she felt her fingers loosen their hold on him. "Yeah, sorry about that, but I am on your side." He sighed and she watched him turned to stare out of the windscreen. "Well, I approve of what you're trying to do."

She frowned and finally released his arm before she grabbed the paper. "First I've heard about anybody liking what I do."

"Just ditch Crowley when you get the chance. I don't like him."

"That's the plan cause I don't like him either," she muttered and she pried the paper open. Her head started to pound and she squinted at the address. "This is a day in the opposite direction. What the hell's in Nevada?" When she lifted her head she looked up to find an empty car. She glanced at the back seat of her car and groaned. "I hate it when you guys do that," she muttered and she stared at the address on the piece of paper.

Charlotte sighed and leaned back in her seat. He'd been the same guy that had appeared in her mind when she'd been in that coma, telling her that she was interesting and that he wasn't somebody she needed to be afraid of. But what did he want her to check out? She ran a hand over her face. Something was telling her that she needed to check it out, see what was what. On the other hand killing the demons in Georgia was very time sensitive. "Come on man," she muttered, turning her attention to the clouds outside. "What's in Nevada? Just a hint, a clue, anything." There was nothing for a few seconds, not that she expected anything, before she said, "I am not going at it blind."

Her phone rang and she stared at it a moment before she flicked her eyes back up. "This better be you," she mumbled before she picked up, "hello?"

"Hey it's Dean."

Her shoulders deflated with an audible sigh and she sagged into her seat. "Hey," she muttered.

"You expecting somebody else?"

"I don't even know," she cleared her throat and shuffled in her seat. "What'd you want?"

"We're bored."

She chuckled with a grin. "And? I am not a booty call Dean. Use your hand, there's a bathroom near you right?"

"That is not why I called." She could hear the humour in his voice. "We're bored. There's like, nothing. No dead bodies, nothing to hunt, nothing." There was a pause before Dean said, "But if you're offering..."

She grinned, "In your dreams Winchester."

Dean laughed. "You're a Winchester too you know."

"And?" She stared at the piece of paper in her hand and let a thought come to mind. "Where are you guys right now?"

"We err, finished a job with a wishing well last week. Now we're just waiting on something else."

She raised her brows at that. "Wishing well?" After a moment she shook her head, "How am I not surprised you guys had a case about a wishing well? Listen, there might be something in Nevada. Somebody gave me an address but I got a thing in Georgia too. You want in?"

"What's in Georgia?"

"A thing," she let out.

There was a moment before Dean said, "Right well-"

Dean's words disappeared as her phone was yanked out of her hand and she turned to see the same guy from before. "What are you-" Charlotte managed to get out before she watched him roll down the window and toss her phone outside. She stared at him a moment later before she snapped, ignoring the pain in her head. "What the hell was that for?"

"Get to Nevada. This is more important then killing that white eyed bitch."

"Really? I think saving the world is-"

"Charlotte!" She clamped her mouth shut and recoiled from his voice slightly. He pointed a finger up and said, "You really want to screw with them? Go to Nevada. I am not asking again."

She could feel something in her mind slip away and it felt as though something was leaking into her body. "Just tell me who you are and I am out of here, to Nevada."

He paused for a moment, a sly smirk curling the corners of his lips before he leaned towards her whispered, "The Trickster," before he winked and left.

She pressed one hand to her head and clutched the steering wheel with the other. "Jesus Christ," she groaned, her eyes screwed shut and her head pounding. A small trickle of blood worked its way from her nose and over her lips and she wiped her hand over under her nose with a glare to the roof of her car. "Since when were trickster's angels?" She groaned and spat out the word, "bastard," before she rummaged in the glove compartment for anything to help with the blood. She found some old, greased rags and wiped at the blood with it. "God I hate you bastards," she mumbled.

The next ten minutes she spent breathing and cleaning her face before she started up her car and pulled a u-turn in the middle of the road. "Nevada, here I come," she muttered, her head still on the verge of spinning.

As she drove she felt something in her mind stay there, something off and she couldn't shake it. It wormed its way throughout her entire body and grew, expanding to begin to fill her entire body up and she couldn't settle in her seat. She wrung her hands on the steering wheel and heard the worrying sound of metal creaking. She pulled her hands away from the wheel, one at a time to shake her hands and try to ease some of the tension out of her body. The more she drove the more she felt her head pound and her body ache. The edges of her vision blurred and it got harder and harder to keep her eyes open and her vision straight.

Charlotte rolled her shoulders with an uncomfortable groan and felt something twist inside of her mind as though clicking into place. Something wasn't right and she tightened her hold on the steering wheel. There was the sound of creaking metal again and she stared at the wheel with wide eyes before she pulled her hand away and gripped her head again with a whine.

She tried to focus on the road, tried to focus on finding a pay phone to call for help but it was getting harder to concentrate and she felt her body grow tired. Eventually she pulled over at the sight of a payphone and her stomach twisted with the urge to vomit. Something was roiling inside of her and she needed air. Needed it now.

She pushed her door open a little too roughly and stumbled out, one hand pressed against her car to steady herself. Something shifted under her hand and she shifted with it. She slumped against her car and glared at the sky. "Trickster, whoever you are," she whined out, "get your ass down here." Something in her chest shifted and she stumbled, when nobody appeared, towards the payphone. "Matt?" she whispered, pleading to thin air.

She shoved a hand against the hood of her car, felt the car move underneath her and fell hard to the ground. The air was forced from her lungs and one arm was trapped underneath her body and she slowly dragged her head up to eye the pay phone. It was close, but she couldn't move. Her body was alight with pain and her limbs were heavy and she felt as though she was dying. Everything hurt.

"Castiel?" she tried, her voice quiet and low. It was a struggle to keep her head up and she felt the pain begin to take over, felt it drag her into the land of the unconscious. "Please," she barely managed to whisper as her eyes closed and she laid her head against the cool ground.